


The Bedside table bears gifts

by little_duckie



Category: Naruto
Genre: Cameras, Character Study, Child Neglect, Gen, Guess what it is?, It's me writing another character study, Konohagakure | Hidden Leaf Village, Social Exclusion, Uzumaki Naruto-centric, WIP, cuz im melancholy like that, social ostracization, therapy via old photos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:40:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26877577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_duckie/pseuds/little_duckie
Summary: Naruto wakes up on his seventh birthday at sunrise, and finds an old camera standing on his bedside table. It is a pretty warm toned yellow with metallics for buttons and dust all over it.Cautious and a little sleep-drunk still, Naruto stares at the only birthday present he has ever received.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	1. The wobbly wooden table and solitary chair

An old camera stands on Naruto’s bedside table.

The bedside table is old, fragile and doesn’t stand straight without a folded piece of paper unsteadily pushed under the top right leg. On this bedside table stands an old camera that Naruto has never seen before. The camera is a pretty warm toned yellow with metallics for buttons and dust all over it.

Naruto wakes up on his seventh birthday at sunrise, as the curtains on his room don’t actually block out any sunlight streaming in on the window facing east. When he finally spots the camera on the left side of his bed, it’s because he sneezed due to the dust on the machine. Cautious and a little sleep-drunk still, Naruto stares at the only birthday present he has ever received.

Naruto doesn’t know what to do, so he showers in cold water and dresses for the day. He makes his bed and blankets after which he eats a slightly old slice of bread, before sitting down on his blankets and actually daring to touch the foreign object on his bedside table.

Naruto had seen cameras before, of course. He’d had a picture taken when he entered the academy last year, as every new student did. However, he’d never seen one so dusty and outdated. Picking it up, Naruto takes it to the sink to grab a wet rag and gently clean off the dust. He peeks through the clear screen in the middle and twists around the room with the camera held up. Snap, he takes a picture of the soft Konohan sunlight streaming through the window, touching upon the wobbly wooden table and his solitary chair. Silent, Naruto searches for the pull-back mechanism so that he can take another photo. However, when he finds and subsequently pulls it, he finds that he can’t press the snap button anymore.

‘Is it broken,’ he wonders out loud, marking these his first words on the first day of his seventh year on earth ‘or is the roll just used up?’.

Naruto knows that he’ll only get an answer if he goes to the camera shop nearby and he decides to go there this very afternoon, lest he skips academy again and has an irate Iruka to deal with for the rest of the week. He smiles, marking his first smile on the first day of his seventh year on earth.

‘Irate Iruka, that’s pretty funny.’ Naruto continues to say, and dawdles in his mission to leave the apartment and actually go to school. Truly, Naruto doesn’t _not_ want to go to the academy, it’s rather that he doesn’t like the journey _to_ the academy. Especially not on the sober day of the 10th of October, when the townspeople’s negative emotions towards him seem to reach new heights.

It is also on the 10th of October, that Naruto has to work very hard to keep a smile on his face.

While contemplating what to do with the camera, Naruto becomes suddenly aware of how bright the sun shines into his kitchen/livingroom/bedroom and swiftly decides to take the camera with him to the academy. Walking and jumping on rooftops seems to work well, it is how all the shinobi travel through the village, and Naruto wants to be a shinobi after all.

Naruto asks Iruka to keep the camera safe during lessons, so that he can pick it up after class. He tells Iruka that it’s because it’ll save time to travel directly to the camera shop after school, instead of going back home to pick it up. ‘Really Iruka-sensei, my home is on the opposite side of the village, please?’ Naruto whines and pleads, after which Iruka gives in despite not really understanding exactly why Naruto doesn’t want to keep the camera in his home.

If Iruka would’ve asked, which he didn’t, Naruto would have smiled and lied. Probably. Maybe he’d even be truthful and tell Iruka that on this particular day of the year, Naruto’s room is often trashed and dirtied. It had scared Naruto for as long as he can remember, that strange foreign people had been in his apartment and had decided to destroy his sacred space.

However, since Iruka didn’t ask, Naruto was quickly on his way with his camera after school and having retrieved it from Iruka. Naruto heads towards the creative street, with little shops for writing tools and painting dyes. Naruto quite liked the creative street and often wondered what he’d buy if he had enough money to spend. He’d wondered so much, that Naruto now knows exactly what he’d buy if he had the money to spend.

He would first buy an easel and several canvasses, he would buy the best paintbrushes for watercolour to paint with. He would buy the thick brushes and the sturdy paper to make pretty calligraphy and he would learn to make those impressive seals with the creativity only a kid has. Naruto would get cloth with dark colours and cool swirly figures, buy needles and thread to make his own clothes.

Now, Naruto had a camera. They’re not very popular in Konoha, probably because it is a hidden village with many high profile shinobi. Naruto understands, they do not want their picture taken. However, Naruto also knows, that taking pictures and making photos is a creative skill. And being a great fan of the creative street, Naruto know that there is a little dingy camera shop above the paint supply seller. The camera shop is named _Klari’s Cameras_ , and when Naruto walks up the stairs into the shop, he asks the clerk what to do with his camera.

‘The camera’s roll must be fully used up already,’ Klari says ‘The roll must be taken out if you want to have them put onto paper.’ Naruto does want that, so even though he doesn’t have much money to spare, he splurges on the photos anyway.

As he does calculations in his head concerning groceries and money, Naruto wonders what the camera roll will show. That night, Naruto has a hard time falling asleep. For once, however, this is not because he is scared for people to invade and trash his apartment, but because Naruto can’t stop imagining what he’s going to see when he picks the photos up. When Naruto finally falls asleep, he sleeps peacefully.

-

As several uneasy days pass by, Naruto’s patience is running dry. Truly, the excitement he feels is greater than ever before. Unfortunately that also means that, in turn, Iruka’s patience is running dry after dealing with a hyperactive Naruto for several days.

Three days, to be exact. Which is, according to both Naruto and Iruka, just about three days too long.

Today Naruto can pick up the photos, as per Klari’s instructions. So as school lets out, Naruto races to the creative street and runs up the stairs with much fanfare, entering Klari’s shop as he closes the front door as gently as he can. Naruto quickly gets a sealed envelope with several photos and Klari stares at him and tells him sternly ‘You don’t open this before you’re home, okay kiddo?’. Her harsh tone momentarily surprises Naruto, but her affectionate name calling washes his fears away. Naruto doesn’t understand the sudden sober feeling Klari conveys, buy adopts it as his own anyway. Nodding his head solemnly, they hold stares, after which Naruto demurely walks home.

Entering his apartment and sitting down at his wobbly kitchen table, Naruto looks over the envelope. It is a normal envelope, Naruto determines. He carefully opens the envelope with a dull kitchen knife and pulls out the photos, and an unfamiliar feeling of expectation fills Naruto. His expectations are already met when he pulls out dozens of photos, despite only having shot one himself. Naruto realises, someone else made these photos, which is followed by the question; who?

He spreads out the pictures on the table, and picks one up to his face to study closely. The photo was made outside, in a clearing of the forest. A lady with bright hair, somewhat close to scarlet, sits on a stone next to a lunch spread out on a cloth. All at once, Naruto knows, _feels_ in his chest that this woman is his mother. A warm red sensation, spicy taste and warm heavy air fills him, _home_ it tells him. _Safe_ it tells him.

Overwhelmed by a feeling Naruto doesn’t know, shouldn’t know, he studies the picture for an hour or so.

‘This camera was my family’s.’ Naruto whispers, which is a statement so ridiculous, especially to Naruto himself, that he can’t breathe. His throat is choked up with emotions too strong for a boy so young, his brain going too fast to keep up with thoughts.

After crying out a lifetime worth of grief, love and intense wanting, Naruto picks up the next photo.

-

 _They were beautiful_ , Naruto decides. _My parents were beautiful_ , of this Naruto was certain. From their body language to their eyes, Naruto can tell they were kind people. They loved each other very much, and they loved him very much too, Naruto thinks. Because while there are many pictures that seem to be a little older and outdated, the majority of them seem to be from when his mother was pregnant. Pregnant with him, Naruto. Big round belly, a father grinning so wide that you would think _he_ were the one pregnant. So many photos are ones depicting proud parents touching a pregnant belly, that Naruto immediately feels loved.

He had parents and they had loved him, Naruto now knows.


	2. Rose tinted glasses, polaroid picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out non-chronological, disconnected drabbles are all that I'm capable of! So! Here's one for ya!

Things looked much better through a lens, Naruto decided.

His new team was _dysfunctional_ , Iruka had said in that tone of his. That tone that reprimanded Naruto, whether it had anything to do with him or not.

\---

‘You see, Sasuke is a bit like you,’ Iruka had quietly admitted when they were out eating ramen at Teuchi’s. His voice almost unheard among the sound of oil boiling and meat frying, ‘but Sasuke actually did have family. He just lost it one day.’

Naruto hadn’t known what to say, nobody ever spoke about family with him. So Naruto stayed silent, wondering.

Sasuke was almost always alone.

At school many days passed without him speaking a word, after school he just… disappeared. Hands in pockets, Sasuke would turn a corner on the street and just _disappear_. Sasuke obviously had no idea how to work together with his classmates, and would never just come up with such an idea. Teachers were _so soft_ on Sasuke, Naruto noticed. Sasuke rarely had to announce his comings and goings, and was never called on during class. He never had to work with his classmates on a project, all of those things didn’t make him very a very sympathetic figure to Naruto. Forever distant, forever alone.

Naruto had always fought for every necessity, while Sasuke was served privilege on a golden platter.

So, despite Iruka pointing out their similarities, Naruto felt like he was living a whole different life than Sasuke. There was not a single thing he understood about Sasuke, his character felt like a can of worms Naruto wasn’t willing to open.

_Dysfunctional,_ however, _was a very apt description of Sasuke_ decided Naruto.

\---

Sakura’s chapter of mystery was a much shorter one. Because whereas it was Naruto that didn’t understand Sasuke, it was Sakura that didn’t understand Naruto. Nor did she understand Sasuke, for that matter.

Sakura was very young, in mind and mannerisms, in philosophy and ideology. Naruto felt like an old man next to Sakura. _Naruto, older, than Sakura._ Naruto had thought that description to be ridiculous at first, he was aware of his own childish disposition _thank you very much_.

And yet, it was the most fitting. Sakura was a child to two parents. In the most basic sense, Naruto and Sasuke already differed from her. Sakura had civilians for parents, she had a civilian outlook on life and was concerned with stupid irrelevant things like _crushes_.

Not much more of note, really. The shade of general disinterest coloured Naruto’s judgement. Naruto was sure that unless someone kicked her ass, she’d be the first to crack in this _dysfunctional_ team.

\---

Kakashi was a whole.ass.mess. He was a horrible teacher, though not for lack of trying. Kakashi obviously wanted to teach them well, but was hesitant and unsure. Naruto would compare him to a teacher in training, just teaching his first class of snotty eight year olds.

Speaking of snotty, Kakashi was bothered by the Genins, and did not touch them at all. Naruto was the most bothersome however, which surprised him to no extent whatsoever. It did bother Naruto though, that the cute grumpy Kakashi on his parents photos was so unwilling to interact with him.

Naruto was sure that he hadn’t done anything to warrant Kakashi’s attitude towards him. Kakashi was such a convoluted person of catchphrases and steel cold eyes. Naruto was sure that there’d be a new mystery of Kakashi’s to unravel every day for the rest of his life.

Naruto wondered if Kakashi a bunch mysteries coming together to cruelly imitate the shape of a man.

Naruto wondered if there would be anything left under all those mysteries.

Kakashi was a husk, and a dysfunctional one at that.

\---

Iruka was wrong, the team wasn’t dysfunctional. It wasn’t as though they were only dysfunctional in relation to each other. Their own persons were dysfunctional.

They weren’t a dysfunctional team, they were dysfunctional persons in the same metaphorical room.

_Yeah, dysfunctional is the right word for it, alright._ Naruto snorted, and took a picture of his mismatched unit of comrades. As the picture printed itself through the instant polaroid camera, he reiterated. _Everything really does look better through a lens._

_That picture almost made them look familial, almost._

**Author's Note:**

> First WIP ever! I just got a really uplifting comment on another work on AO3, so I wrote this. I don't really like my writing style, but that is why I'm writing. To get better. If you read this and really feel like you want this to go in a certain direction, or if there is something you really would like to see written please tell me! I'd love some feedback and imput on my work!


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